Gemstone

The little boy giggled as he played with the dirt-covered stone. He tossed it from one hand to another, eyes following its pathway. It was a treasure he found, he believed. Something he had never had before. Something his.

“I’ll never lose this. I swear it. I will never ever lose it.” He shouted with glee, his hand clenched over the rock. His eyes sparkled almost as much as the rock did not.

Another boy older by maybe one or two years, approached him with wonder. The wonder of what it was that was making him so happy. He wanted to be happy too.

“Can we be friends?” He initiated with a tough front and cool aura. The little boy stared through his beady eyes and did not reply. He shoved his closed fist towards the boy and observed his eyes follow.

The boy did not understand what the gesture meant. He looked back, questionable.

The closed fist slowly began to open, unravel. The dirt-covered stone sat still on the palm of his little hand. He was waiting.

The older boy could not comprehend what he was meant to do. Then he had an epiphany. His hands attacked his pocket, fingers wriggling.

“Aha!”, he cried out. A shining, shimmering stone was exposed. The blue sparkled in the sunlight, out-sparkling the once sparkling eyes of the little boy. The older boy was beaming. He was sure that he would accomplish his goal of befriending the little boy. Little did he know, the little boy did not think the same.

The little boy’s lips quivered. His eyes drooped and head tilted. He gazed at the sparkling blue in the older boy’s hands and then towards his own dirty pebble.

“No.” He whimpered. Pulling his hand back and putting all his might, he threw the pebble as far as he could. With tears in his eyes, he looked at the older boy one last time before running in the opposite direction.

Tears ran down the older boy’s face as did blood drip down his hands.

The scratches forever engraved, hand and heart.

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